That Story Currently Without a Name
by boxhead4eva
Summary: Fluffy little developing Kogan bromance way before Big Time Rush. When they're around... 6, just before kindergarten? Jarlos later, Kogan first. Lighthearted and slow moving.
1. Cars, Boats, Planes

**A/N Hi. I'm stuck on my other one, so here's a little showverse Big Time Rush before Big Time Rush, with little Kogan and later Jarlos happenings… Because they're adorable. Not much of a plot line, except for character development. Possibly more to come. Enjoy :)  
>xoxo, JT<strong>

**PS. The Hoberman sphere has a little background behind it. Maybe I'll explain in another one of these short blurbs when I have nothing else to write about.**

**And I don't own Big Time Rush, but I wish I did.**

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><p>Logan Mitchell had always been on the smarter end of the spectrum. He didn't play with toy cars, boats or planes, but then again he wasn't the complete opposite and didn't ask for dolls and clothes. He was smack in the middle of that, or maybe in the 'ultraviolet' area, off the spectrum. Year after year, he asked for more and more blocks, more of the colourful Legos, wooden spheres and prisms, and when he got older, chemistry and biology sets. Something that he asked for year after year was for a Hoberman sphere, a colourful mass of plastic bits put together in a way that would be expanded and retracted if you whipped your wrist correctly when throwing it. He spent what felt like hours on end at The Discovery Hut, trying to figure out how it worked despite the irritating plastic packaging until his parents dragged him away.<p>

Kendall Knight, on the other hand was a lot more boyish and took more risks. He wanted all the construction sets, model trains and motorcycles, and as he grew older, mountain bikes, skateboards, and hockey skates. He was devilish and never listened to higher authority, blatantly flaunting the rules and finding new ways to sneak out of the house on a daily basis. He cut the heads off his baby sister's plush dolls, eventually popping the heads off Barbies and encouraging her to join him - which she did.

The two polar opposite personalities were brought together early one day in early March, early on in their lives. Logan was walking to the museum, nervously fidgeting while waiting for the pedestrian lights to change, every once in a while cautiously looking both ways even when the light in front of him glowed red. Kendall, hands stuffed in grey hoodie pockets, was standing relatively close to him, waiting impatiently for the lights, every so often stepping off the curb to touch his feet on the road, then jumping back up as a car would turn. After one particularly close call, the brunette finally spoke up, voice wavering slightly.

"You shouldn't stand on the road, a car could run over you and you could die."

The blonde looked over at the concerned brunette, then discreetly rolled his eyes. "Yeah, okay mom," he said, while stepping back up onto the sidewalk right beside the smart boy. He knew the brunette's words had some true meaning behind them even though they stung a little, but he was used to people telling him what not to do and scolding him. As they went their separate ways after crossing the street in a comfortable silence, he couldn't help but think about how sweet it was for someone else to say that; after all, it meant that a complete stranger cared about him. He smiled to himself as he climbed up the tree in his yard, seemingly dancing on the branches as he made his way back to his open room window, shutting it with a quiet click. 


	2. Flimsy Paperback Book

**A/N Hi! I decided to keep writing this story, because of all the places I could go with it. Please bear with me - I know there are some errors, but they just seem to somehow disappear until I read them after being published. Sorry! D:**

**I had to use a converter to change -10ºC into F because I'm Canadian. Fahrenheit makes no sense to me, I also can't seem to spell it. I also used to play Lava Monsters a lot, as well as Grounders. Lol.  
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**I don't own Big Time Rush, but if you know them could you get them Logan to sign a marriage certificate with Kendall for me please.  
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**Enjoy!**  
><strong>xoxo, JT.<strong>

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><p>Their second meeting wasn't much of a meeting.<p>

March was still one of the colder months, especially in Minnesota. But it was the month where the sun started to peek out, the snow started to melt, and where everyone had built up their resistance to cold over the winter, making 17º weather feel much warmer than it really was, even with windchill. The first day the snow even started to dissolve into water, all the neighborhood kids had put on light jackets, wrestling with their parents over hats, gloves and scarves until the threat "put these on or you can't go outside" was uttered, and swarmed to the colorful ommunity playground.

Kendall Knight was one of these kids, more than eager to be granted permission to leave the house, even though it meant wearing his ugly beige scarf and wool mitts to match, accompanied with a green beanie that his grandmother had knitted for him, saying that it matched his eyes. Leaving the house bright and early at 9:30 on the dot, he stayed outside running around and playing, his jacket and other winter attire slowly being stripped off and left carelessly strewn on the snowy ground. He stayed outside until his mom called him in for lunch, where he scarfed down a hot grilled cheese sandwich with a glass of milk before bolting out the door towards the inviting outdoors again.

The second time around, the playground was different. The kids had changed - less than earlier, making it less chaotic. The game of Lava Monster they were playing earlier seemed to have dwindled down to only four other players, making it much harder for the monster and less entertaining for the survivors. He joined in nevertheless, plastering his small body against a blue plastic wall littered with little holes that let him peek outside of his established base.

Time passed, no one tagged him, the same monster from ten minutes ago refusing to come up onto the equipment, instead deciding to stay on the ground, trying to grab survivors to no avail. He didn't come up even when being called names. A bored Kendall stayed in his hiding spot, shifting down a little to make himself more comfortable, seeing that he was not going to be 'it' any time soon. He occasionally peered out the hole just in case, to see the progress the hunter was making. The blond lulled his head back in boredom, glancing out a hole, but instead of seeing the lava monster, he saw a small boy close to his age with familiar facial features, although he couldn't seem to pinpoint where he had seen him before. He was bundled up in a puffy jacket with a scarf, hat, gloves, boots and snow pants even though it was too warm even for early March weather. He was reading a flimsy paperback book with no pictures, eyes glued to the pages, flipping them occasionally.

After a few minutes, he suddenly froze, bookmarked his page with a finger, and turned around abruptly to where Kendall was, seemingly sensing that someone was observing him. The blonde whipped his head around in embarrassment, wind-bitten cheeks reddening more than they already were as he tried to hide by laying himself flat on the playground equipment. Luckily, the brunette didn't seem to spot him, and returned to reading his thick book. Noticing this out of the corner of his eye, the blonde let out a breath of relief, the warm air turning white as smoke as it was released from his mouth. Just in case, he soon relocated to the other side of the playground, not turning around even though he was itching to look at the other boy again.

When Kendall finally gathered up the nerve to look for the brunette, the boy was gone, leaving no trace of his ever being there but a few boot prints nearby - and even then Kendall couldn't distinguish his from others. He looked around from his post, shook off the slight disappointment, and returned back to the game. Another player had finally been tagged, though not entirely unwillingly - frankly, everybody was getting bored of the same old lava monster and sacrifices needed to be made. A couple more kids joined in as time passed, making the game slightly more difficult, so Kendall actually had to move, the boy from earlier finally able to temporarily slip from his mind. He stayed outside until it started getting dark, then finally returned home.

That night, the blonde squirmed under his covers, unable to find a comfortable sleeping position - his thoughts were always drifting back to the dark haired boy, even though he had no idea why. He barely even got glimpse of his face, yet it seemed to be haunting him even in his sleepy and exhausted state. He turned so that his face was in his pillow and groaned loudly, trying to fight off the thoughts being replayed over and over in his head. Every once in a while, he would turn over and glance at his clock, the blinking red numbers mocking him; showing the time passing so slowly, yet ever so quickly. He flipped over onto his back and covered his face with his blanket, pulling his legs up to his chin and squeezing his eyes shut, hoping the complete darkness would help with his sleep, until he felt like he was being suffocated under the thick cloth. He stayed under a bit too long before kicking the blanket off, head popping out, gasping for air - and in that one second of his thoughts shutting off and turning into a blank white slate of fear, he remembered where he had seen that face before.

He pictured it in his mind's eye, as he turned onto his right side, once again replaying the moment in his head - though not the same one. He recited the words the caring brunette had said to him on the busy street that day in his head over and over again, each time relaxing his muscles more and more, allowing him to sink deeper and deeper into his mattress, rocking him further and further into a warm, stuffy dreamless sleep.


	3. Seven Drops of Food Colouring

**A/N Hey! Here's a late update. This story goes by really slowly, because honestly, the plot line is really general and just covers the friendship of Kogan. So, updates may be a little slow because ideas may be running low :/ **

**But nonetheless, enjoy! xoxo, JT**

**I don't own Big Time Rush but can I please?  
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><p>March was a great month, according to Kendall. It had his favourite holiday (next to Christmas and his birthday) - St. Patrick's Day. He always made a great deal out of it every year - rolling green streamers across the floor and asking his family to help him put them up; one year taking his sister's green markers and crayons and running around, scribbling on the blank canvas that was also the wall. This year, he had something special planned. It had taken all the brain power he had and required lots of planning as well as test runs. He even requested the help of one of his best friends and next door neighbour Carlos for help; so long as Kendall allowed his blossoming idea to also become a part of the Garcia household. He assigned jobs for himself and Carlos, set deadlines, and worked hard in the privacy of his locked room, sneaking outside every once in a while to collect the necessary natural ingredients for his experiment. He was grateful for all of Carlos' help, especially when he discovered the solution to all his problems - not various grass nor leaves, but seven drops of green food colouring per cup of white 2% milk.<p>

A week before his big scheme would come into place, he practiced sneaking downstairs with an empty carton of milk and placing it in his fridge, then sneaking back upstairs, only to wake up early the next morning before anyone else to remove it and store it under his bed in his room for rehearsal the next night.

The night before the _big day, _however, Kendall noticed he had run into a problem - there was no more milk in the fridge for the next morning, due to his constant sneaking of it for previous experimentation. It was too late at night to knock on Carlos' door and bribe him to bike over to the local Trader Joe's for a new carton of milk, so after running through any and all of the possible solutions in his head, finally decided not to send his little sister out to get it for him, and instead doing it himself.

The clock struck ten, the little yellow cuckoo bird in his living room poking his head out of his small house repeatedly. Kendall held his breath and got up out of his bed, kicking up a dirty pair of black jeans off the floor and peeling a dark grey hoodie from his chair. He got on his hands and knees to peek out the crack under his door before donning his spy gear. After that, he double checked his pockets for money, stuffed pillows and a soccer ball under his blankets to shape it like himself, and then eased the window up, feeling the cold Minnesota air already starting to sting the insides of his nose and cheeks. Pulling his hood up and tightening the strings, the blonde crawled out his window, shutting it quietly behind him, then began to shimmy along the branches of the large tree.

The next step in his sure-to-be flawless plan was to sneak Carlos' bicycle out from the shed. After checking and double checking that all the lights in the Garcia house were all off, he reached into the third empty flowerpot, revealing the small key that unlocked the shed. A quiet click and the sliding open of well-oiled doors later, Kendall was racing down the sidewalk on a borrowed blue bike, cold wind blowing through the holes in Carlos' helmet that he was also borrowing.

Each time he turned a corner, he could feel his insides churning more and more, a quiet gurgle only he could hear erupting from his nerves. This was unusual for him - he had gone on plenty of these little 'missions' before, but this time it felt different. He knew exactly what he had to do, he knew he had a clearly marked goal, and it was getting closer and closer, brighter and brighter each time he pedaled the stolen bike.

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><p>The second he stepped foot in the Trader Joe's, the familiar scent of produce and burlap surrounded him and he breathed deeply, inhaling the smell of success. He quickly located the milk, holding it his arms tightly as he counted the money in his pocket and handed it over to the teenaged cashier who eyed him suspiciously, but went through with his order nonetheless. As Kendall straddled the bicycle, he double and triple-checked the precious and hard-earned milk sitting in the basket attached to his handlebars, making sure there was no chance it would spill or fall to the ground as he was pedaling. Content, he turned the bike around and went back the way he came, stress and nervousness melting away every time he exhaled breathy clouds into the chilly March air.<p>

Spokes clicking, rocks flying, the small bumps on the handlebars that he was gripping so tightly was staring to relax Kendall. He was steering carefully, not turning the corners as recklessly as before, going in straight lines, avoiding swerving as well as rocks and clumps of snow on the walk. Right when he was starting to enjoy the freedom surrounded by the darkness of the night, he heard the shriek of bike breaks in front of him, followed by a crashing sound of metal to cement.

The next thing he saw was a flash of blue, then his own bicycle on the ground, back wheel spinning without a purpose, brown wicker basket overturned. He blinked, in a daze, before jumping to his feet and scrunching his face together, hoping for the best as he propped up the bike and lowered the kickstand. He felt hot tears starting to sting his eyes, before blinking them away shamefully, the sight of his treasured milk spilling from the partially collapsed carton. The slightly taller brunette was already up, observing him silently as he sniffled shakily. The stranger was unfamiliar, about the same age as him, though looked much better groomed and more tidy in appearance than himself. He felt the boy scanning over his own tougher blond frame and heard his feet shuffle around on the rough concrete before speaking up.

"Dude, don't cry over spilt milk," the stranger told him gently, but still with a slight edge in his voice.

Kendall looked him in the eyes, tears welling up fast. "Tomorrow's Saint Patrick's Day," he replied quietly, moving his gaze back down at the milk.

"Yeah, I know?" the brunette questioned, then falling silent for a few short moments before asking, "how does this have to do with milk?"

Kendall, in his unstable and slightly shocked state told him all about his plan, not remembering that he was a spy and that this was a top-seceret-confidenchul mission, according to his "Mission Book."

"Dude! That is such a cool idea!"

Kendall froze. He had mistakenly told a stranger about his plan, his top secret plan that he had spent so much time and effort in arranging. Tears welled up in his eyes again, making him whimper quietly at the effort he was putting in to blink them back in. A stray drop rolled down the side of his face, tracing his defined jawline but before he had the chance to wipe it away, the stranger offered him a tissue out of nowhere. A couple more tense minutes passed by, letting Kendall calm down a bit. He felt the brunette's eyes on him most of the time, but he didn't speak up or offer any form of comfort. Kendall liked that, usually whenever anyone tried to be comforting, it would have the opposite effect. After a while, the brunette, who had grown uneasy with the long stretch of silence finally broke it, eyes cast downward. "Sorry for crashing your bike and about your milk."

Kendall nodded, accepting the apology and stuffing the tissue into his hoodie pocket. It's not like he wanted to crash both their bicycles, anyway. "It's okay," he tried to say back confidently, but instead coming out as a whisper.

After examining the hurt in the blonde's eyes, the brunette sighed loudly and offered the other boy his hand, which he took. "Come on, I've got some money I found under my couch and and in my sister's pockets you can buy some more milk with… I mean if you want," he finished quietly. The blonde kept his gaze down, running the offer through his mind before finally looking into the taller boys eyes again and nodding, a small smile making its way up back on his lips. The brunette, delighted by the other boy's silent 'yes' grinned and stood up taller, sweeping the front of his brown locks out of his eyes. He flashed a wide, toothy, and evidently practiced grin, then extended a hand.

"I'm James."


	4. Small Copper Bucket

**A/N Hallo. Here is an update. Don't expect the next one soon, although I'm finished it. :D I saw BTR live in Calgary last night on Logan's birthday and it was amazing and I caught Carlos' sweat towel and it smells good. And Logan kissed my hand and I got kisses blown to me so I'm a little shaken up over that. It might take time to recover.  
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**Haha. Enjoy! xoxo, JT**

**I don't own Big Time Rush or any of the characters associated. **

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><p>A tuft of medium-boy length brown hair stuck out of his oversized jacket, eyes cast down, scribbling in a black coiled notebook. Small puffs of his hot breath leaked out of his mouth and into the air, swirling and mixing as they floated upward toward the budding overhanging trees. He glanced up occasionally, eyes flicking toward the direction of his house and scanning along the sidewalks before looking back down at his notebook and continuing to write, blue inked Bic pen bobbling up and down the lined sheets.<p>

The playground in front of him bustled with activity, the occasional shrill girlish scream, grunts of pain from freshly bruised knees and scraped elbows. A short Latino half heartedly ran across a platform and swung across a set of bars with gloved hands, knitted green and purple threads shielding his soft skin from the cold, blue metal. Upon landing on the other side of the bars, a leg stuck out and caused the klutzy unbalanced boy to fall forwards, face landing hard and scuffing his chin. He glanced up, bewildered and looked a large, square-shaped boy in the icy blue eyes.

"I, uh, was just…," he stammered out, mouth flapping open and closed uselessly. "I w-was j-just, uh, going…"

The rude polygonal-human snarled, squatting down to look the sitting boy deeper in the eyes as he knitted his brows together. "Going where?"

Carlos sat up and backed himself slowly, hands feeling behind him to prevent from falling off the platform. "Uh…" His fingers found a cold, orange supporting beam and he wrapped his hands discreetly around it. "Well, I was just going…" He built up all the power in his body, sending it downward, and before he could think twice, his legs straightened and the power sent the small body shooting upwards toward a set of spinning monkey bars. He clung tightly onto a bar with his hands, quickly swinging his lower body and legs up, then shimmying across another set of spinning bars. "I was just, you know, going, uh… _that_ way." He pointed behind him with his gloved thumb and scrambled away atop the high beams.

He paused to glance behind him once, and saw the older kid lifting a small bystander up by his collar and screaming insults and threats into his face. "Oof. Sorry…," Carlos murmured to himself.

Being up so high, he could see out quite a ways. The houses shrunk down into their own shadows and he could suddenly see past them, and past to the next row of homes as well.

"_Woah_." He pivoted on the spot to look out upon the other side of the neighbourhood, but focused on a row of wooden benches, mostly empty. Out of the corner of his eye, he spied the tall brunette bundled up in his jacket, bent over scribbling untidily. The Latino glanced at his Superman cereal box watch and scrunched his face, calculating the time remaining. Five more minutes.

A loud clank rattled the bars he was perched upon and shook him out of the daze he was in from the new perspective of his territory. He shrieked and scampered away, hopping down and running across the multitudes of colourful platforms and playground equipment before leaping off and cutting across under a bridge and up a bare tree beside the row of benches.

The brunette curled upon the bench put his notebook down, rubbing his weary, hazel eyes and sighing. He tapped on the face of his pricey watch wrapped loosely around his wrist before removing it to show the other boy.

"Carlos, five more minutes," he said, straightening up to a standing position on the bench and shoving the glittery accessory into the other's face.

"No, there are four more minutes." The Latino thrust his own superhero watch into the brunette's face, who huffed.

"Same thing."

"No, James, five is one more than four," Carlos stated matter-of-factly. The taller boy rolled his eyes in return and fixed his bangs before replying.

"Okay, well now that the plan is _ruined_," James retorted, snapping his watch back on, "Just take the notebook and go." He sat back down in a huff and shut his notepad, inserting the pen into the coil rings and throwing it in general the direction of the Latino wobbling in the tree.

"Thanks for saving me from… him!" Carlos shrieked before swinging down off a thick limb and running at full speed in the other direction, ducking under a disarray of branches glistening with a thin layer of icy frost and making a mad dash across the street.

James exhaled into a small smile as he collected his things, tucking crumpled papers and extra pens into his large coat pockets before crossing the road and heading in the direction toward his house.

Carlos' short legs were a blur as he sped away as fast as he could from the playground, notebook tightly grasped in his right hand. He didn't even look back to see if he was being followed - which he wasn't. The bully was half a block behind him, exhausted and huffing, bent over slightly with his hands on knees. One block later, the small boy finally decided to sneak behind a house to check if he had lost the enemy. He swallowed his breath and waited patiently for a good three minutes before stepping out and cautiously looking down the street, where he saw no mean square-shaped kids. He tucked the coil notebook securely into his back jeans pocket and wandered down the avenue slowly, enjoying the cold, crisp feel of spring in the air. He stuck out his arms to balance himself and walked along the curb, tongue sticking out the side of his mouth in focus. As he turned the corner, he found a small pebble, hopping off the curb and kicking the small rock down another block.

Upon approaching house number 306 as instructed by James, he looked it up and down from a safe distance and made mental notes on escape routes and good places to squeeze into if danger approached. He took the notebook out of his pocket and turned it over in his hand before checking for cars both ways and running across the street and up the front steps as quietly as he could. When he arrived at the front steps he hesitated, slowly advancing, then pressing his ear against the white door to listen for any noise coming from inside. His sensitive ears picked up on low chatter and he swiftly turned on his heel, jumping back down the steps, circling around to the backyard.

Like James had said, there was a small copper bucket waiting for him, a thick string attached to the handle, pail hanging in midair. He followed the rope up to the second floor of the house and noted that the window was open. Carlos placed the notepad as gently as he could into the bucket and hesitantly tugged at it three times. A small blonde head poked out of the window.

"Hey, you're not James," the boy said.

"Yeah, I know. I'm kind of… delivering things for him."

"Hmm. Do you know this neighbourhood well?"

"I guess so." Carlos shrugged. "Why?" He brought a hand up to his forehead, shielding his eyes from the sun.

"No reason. Just doing a… background check."

"Oh. What's a background check?_"_ The blonde remained silent and slowly began to pull the bucket up. "Um… Okay! Well, I'm Carlos, and I live in house number 602." He analyzed the look on the blonde's face. "James told me to tell you in case you needed anything." The blond raised an eyebrow at Carlos, who puffed out his chest with pride. "I have my very own bicycle."

"Why didn't you ride it today?"

"I was on lookout."

"Okay." Kendall examined the Latino's face for a good while, pausing the movement in his arms. "You look like you can be trusted, so I guess tell you my name." He returned to pulling the bucket in. "It's Kendall."

"Isn't that a girl name?"

"W-what? _No._"

"Yes it is, my mom's friend has a baby named Kendall and sometimes we go with them to the skating rink."

"Oh, yeah? Well… Well I hear _Carlos_ is a girl name _too_." With that, the blonde reached out in annoyance and grabbed the handle of the pail, bringing it back in, then promptly snapping the glass shut.

Carlos stared up at the window in slight confusion before shrugging. "Whatta _baby_."

He re-laced his left shoe, stuffed his hands into his hoodie pockets, then skipped back home.


End file.
